


Rites of Passage

by LandlessBud



Category: Newsies (1992), Newsies - All Media Types, Newsies!: the Musical - Fierstein/Menken
Genre: AU, F/M, M/M, Period-Typical Homophobia, Time Skips, Train Station, based on a play i wrote, davey is an artist, don't worry about the death warning it'll make sense later, i may add other characters later, jatherine is a background thing, the ocs are the nurses chillax
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-04
Updated: 2017-05-19
Packaged: 2018-10-28 04:39:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 6
Words: 5,333
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10823928
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LandlessBud/pseuds/LandlessBud
Summary: Jack doesn't remember how he got here. One minute, he was walking the streets of New York, and the next, he was stuck in a train station.





	1. Chapter 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's 1942, and Jack meets a pretty boy in a train station.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Jack and Davey are 17 in this chapter.

Jack didn’t remember how he got here. One minute, he was walking the streets of New York, as usual, and the next, he was… Well, he didn’t quite know where he was. It appeared to be a train station, but it was strangely empty.

There were several benches lining the space, all unoccupied. That is, except for the one where a tall, lanky boy sat, oblivious to the world around him. He was drawing in a sketchbook of some sort. After pacing around a little longer, Jack paused in the middle of the platform. “What _is_ this place?” he asked, his voice echoing around the station.

He thought the other boy would notice this, but, upon a second glance, he was still stuck in his own little world. “Hey! I asked ya a question!” Jack said pointedly.

The boy, finally realizing he wasn’t alone, lifted his head. “Oh. I’m not sure. I don’t really remember how I got here.”

Jack shook his head, trying to remember what happened before he arrived at the train station. He couldn’t have suddenly appeared there. Finally, something came to mind. “Ma told me to wait for her here. At least, I thought she did. Ain’t never seen anything like this place before.”

The boy grimaced at his drawing, then loudly scribbled something out. Jack tried to look over, but the boy clutched his sketchbook tightly.

“’Ey, what’s that ya got there? Lemme take a look,” Jack pressed, grabbing at the sketchbook.

“I’m not so sure about that, it’s kind of private--” the boy blurted as Jack seized the sketchbook and started to flip through it.

Jack was amazed. He’d never seen anything this beautiful before. It appeared to be pictures of people in the train station. He looked up at the boy for a moment, then continued to peruse the art. “Say, these are pretty good. Are those people that’ve been here or--”

Jack had just turned the page to a drawing of himself. He paused, poring over it. It looked just like him. Almost scarily so. He was at a loss for words. “Oh. Um. That’s… _Me_. I… Here, you can have this back.”

“Uh… thanks,” the boy responded, taking his sketchbook back and closing it gently. “My train should be here soon, anyway.” He carefully placed his grimy pencil back in a rusty tin.

Jack wondered how he knew this. He didn’t see any signs for trains around. There didn’t seem to be any sort of ticket booth either, which was odd. Perhaps there was some sort of automaton selling tickets! Anything was possible. It was 1942, the modern age!

Eventually, his curiosity overtook him. “Where ya headed?”

The boy finally made eye contact with him. Jack was taken aback at how pretty his face was, for lack of a better description. He already liked this boy.

“I’m not sure,” Pretty Boy said. “All I know is when my train comes, I get on it.”

Jack was stunned. Why the fuck were they in a train station, then? Better yet, why was Pretty Boy stuck here with him? He lost himself in the thought of Pretty Boy’s eyes for a moment before realizing he needed to speak. “How the _hell_ d’ya know what train to get on?” ended up being all that came out of his mouth.

“You have to feel it, I guess. People seem to be drawn to their train. They just _know_ ,” Pretty Boy answered.

“An’ I can’t pick a train an’ get on?” Jack shot back, wanting out. This empty station was weirding him out.

“I don’t think that’s how this station works.”

Jack halted. “I could leave, right? I ain’t gotta get on a train to get out of here.”

Pretty Boy laughed and shook his head. _God, he is gorgeous_ , Jack thought, before refocusing on the present. “Do _you_ see any doors?”

“I…” Jack glanced around, not seeing anything beyond either end of the subway tunnel. “Damn it.”

Dejected, Jack slumped down on the bench beside Pretty Boy. He could’ve been imagining it, but he was fairly sure that Pretty Boy leaned towards him a little.

“How long’ve you been waiting?” Jack hated to break the silence, but he really needed to know.

“Couple of days, I think. Mostly I’ve been sitting here sketching,” Pretty Boy replied, appearing slightly dazed.

“Holy shit! Do most people stay for that long?” Jack asked, hoping his fate wouldn’t be similar.

“That’s above my pay grade.”

Holy shit. Not only was this boy pretty and a good artist, he was sarcastic as all hell to boot.

“I don’t wanna be stuck here for that long. I gotta get on with my life!” Jack whined.

It was at that precise moment that a train decided to whistle. Jack felt a sudden need to go towards it, and, looking to his side, it appeared Pretty Boy felt it too. The last thing Jack heard was Pretty Boy’s voice.

“I think our train’s here.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello!  
> this is based on a play I wrote for a local playwriting competition. it was selected as a finalist, and a bunch of people on tumblr said I should rewrite it as a newsies AU so... here it is! hopefully I'll be able to update frequently, but I'll be in school til June so no promises.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Davey didn't know where he was last night, but he clearly remembered one thing: the boy's eyes.

            Davey opened his eyes. He was in _bed_? Somehow, he had made his way from that train to his bedroom in his family’s apartment. He yawned, stretched his arms, and sat up. Nothing seemed to have changed, but, since his experience in the train station, he knew that appearances could be deceiving. Wanting to make sure everything was back to normal, Davey knocked three times on the thin wall dividing his room from Sarah’s.

            He looked over at the clock. It was three in the afternoon. Davey _never_ slept that late. Even on weekends. _It should be Saturday_ , he thought as Sarah raced into his room.

            “What the mother-loving _fuck_ happened to you? You were fucking _dead_ to the world! Les couldn’t even get you up, and you know how good he is at that!” she shouted, alerting the entire building to the news of Davey’s awakening.

            Davey couldn’t form a complete sentence after he remembered exactly what happened to him. He couldn’t get the image of that boy out of his head. He hoped he still had the sketch he drew of him because he never wanted to forget a face like _that_.

            “Davey? Hello? Are you in there?” Sarah prodded, startling him from his daydreams. “You were drooling.”

            “Huh? No, I wasn’t! I… had a strange dream, okay?” Davey managed to eke out.

            “Sure you did, and pigs fucking fly. Who was there?”

            “Shut up, Sarah. I’m too tired to deal with your shit.”

            “Fine, asshole. I’ll go. Have fun with Les stealing your books if you don’t get out of bed.”

            “Fuck! I have homework! Leave!” Davey yelped, shoving Sarah out of his room and slamming the door. He liked to finish all of his homework before noon on Saturday so he’d have the weekend free. Of _course_ his history teacher had assigned a four-page essay due Monday. He’d barely started on it when an energetic blur sprinted into his room.

            “You’re awake! Come on, ya gotta check this out!” Les enthused, grabbing Davey’s hand and attempting to drag him out of the chair he sat in. Davey’s pencil scratched across his paper.

            “Les! I have five fucking papers due on Monday, and now I have to restart this one. Go away!”

            Davey hadn’t noticed that his mother was standing right outside his room as he said this. “David Jacobs! Do not speak to your brother with that language. Get up,” she ordered, ushering him into the kitchen and handing him an orange. “Why were you asleep for so long?”

            Davey was shocked by the sudden change in subject. “What do you mean?”

            His mother sighed. “David, you’re never awake after nine on weekends. It’s nearly four o’clock and I just found out that you were awake. What’s going on? Is it something with school?”

            “No, Ma, I’m not sure what it was,” he replied, clearly lying through his teeth. His mother gave him a look. “Come to think of it, I did have a really strange dream.”

            “Perhaps I should take you to the doctor. You seem a little unwell,” she said, putting her hand against his forehead.

            “No! Ma! I gotta get back to work on this paper. I’m _fine_. Believe me,” he answered. Gently shoving her hand away, he tossed the orange peel in the trash and walked back to his room.

            Upon closing his door (but _not_ slamming it, that would get him in trouble), Davey remembered his sketch of the boy. He quickly picked up his mattress to grab his hidden sketchpad and started flipping through the pages and pages of artwork he’d completed. Anxiously, he turned past the last drawing he recalled doing while awake.

            There it was! His portrait from the train station! He had no idea what that meant. He hadn’t heard of any train stations in New York like the one he had been trapped in. But here was his drawing, staring up at him. The sketch didn’t hold a candle to the rest of his features, but the eyes were intriguingly mesmerizing. Davey _needed_ to find this boy. Soon, if he could. The only problem was how.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you for reading this and for the kind comments! you're all in for a wild ride... :)  
> I meant to update this last night, but I screwed up my finger in a lacrosse game and have had a hard time typing for the past day or so. thank you for your patience!! hopefully I'll have chapter 3 up sometime this weekend!


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's 1969, and David is not having a good day at work.

            David sighed and checked his watch. He would show up to the office with five minutes to spare if his _goddamn_ coffee would be done in the next minute or so, but the _fucking_ barista never seemed to pick up on the fact that he couldn’t wait all day for his caffeine. He would make coffee at home, but it took too much effort, and his apartment didn’t have the space for a coffee maker. Finally, the barista called his name, and he resumed his commute to work.

He’d have three minutes and 14 seconds of free time in the office if there wasn’t much. Of course today was the one day every taxi driver in New York decided to be on the road and block his way. His free time was ticking away. Once he managed to get halfway to the office, it was down to two minutes and seven seconds. He sighed. He never seemed to be able to get a break.

With 58 seconds to spare, David plopped into his chair in his cubicle and checked his “In” box. Great. More contracts to read and review.

The one highlight of his day was lunch, when he’d meet up with his one friend at the office. Her name was Katherine Kelly, and she had recently resumed working after her husband, Jack, lost his job. She said he had worked as an artist for the _Times_ for a while, but the executives got sick of his art style and political commentary and decided it was time for him to go. Kathy (as David called her) had two kids, both going to some fancy college upstate. However, she didn’t keep any photos of her family in the office, saying that photos were too expensive and she preferred “living in the moment” anyway.

That day, they met up outside their office building to walk to a pizza place around the block. “Hey, Dave,” Kathy started to say. “Did-- uh… Do you ever get… I don’t know, irrationally pissed off at your life sometimes?”

“Do you want an honest answer here?”

She hesitated. “Yes. Jack’s been… different ever since he lost his job. More tense. Less… loving.”

“I don’t need all the gory details. It’s stressful to be out of work. Sure, I’m sick of this place and I hate this job, but at least I’ve got one.”

“I wish you could be the little angel on my shoulder sometimes. You’re good at this sort of thing.”

“Kathy. Trust me. I’m the last person you want as that angel. I’m the _least_ qualified person to be that angel.”

“You keep such a level head, though!”

“Look. I do that because I tend to dislike freaking out in public. You’d be surprised at how I am at home. When I’m alone.”

“Why are you so alone, anyway? There are plenty of nice women around New York, especially in the office!”

David turned away for a moment. How could he break it to Kathy that he didn’t like women like that? He’d barely broken the news to himself! Besides, even if he did find someone now, he was too old to have any fun with them.

Noting David’s silence, Kathy decided to avoid the subject. “How’s that contract coming?”

“The Delancey one? I don’t like it, but Pulitzer says it’ll earn the firm a lot of money. ‘Looks good on my resume’ or something like that.”

“Why don’t you just leave?”

“What, and risk going without money for months? Years? I don’t have anyone to fall back on. All I’ve got now is myself. My parents are long gone, my sister moved to fucking California and hasn’t called me in three years, and who knows where Les went. Last I heard, he was in Georgia for some riot.”

“I could help you.”

“That’s very kind, but I can’t put that burden on you, especially with Jack out of work.”

“You should come over for dinner sometime, you’d love Jack!”

 _That’s exactly the problem_ , David thought. Instead, he said “I can’t do that to you, Kathy. I can take care of myself on my own.”

“Come on, visit us for a night!”

“I’m fine. I like being on my own at night. Plus, it’s hard to get to my apartment in the dark.”

“Alright, Dave, but if anything ever comes up, you come over to our place, alright?”

“Fine, Mom.”

“Shit! It’s 12:55! We gotta get back to the office!” Kathy yelped, grabbing David by the arm and dragging him around the block to the building entrance. She yanked open the door and marched him over to the elevator, all without releasing his elbow.

David coughed. She didn’t look over. He coughed again. Kathy still stared straight at the elevator doors as they closed in front of them. “Hey… Kathy… Mind letting go of my arm? I’m not one of your kids, you know.”

Kathy dropped his elbow. “Sorry, old habits die hard. Ready for four more hours of paperwork?”

“Am I ever?”

The elevator dinged at the tenth floor, and the two got out, waved, and walked their separate ways towards their cubicles. David sat in front of his typewriter and hoped the Delancey contract would go quickly.

After David finally made it home that night, his phone rang. The only people with his number were Sarah and Kathy, and he sincerely hoped it was the former. He picked up the phone before the ringing woke up his neighbors. “Hello?”

“Hey, Dave,” Kathy’s tinny voice came through the phone. “I… have some news.”

“What’s going on?” She never used that tone unless someone died or something really bad happened.

“Jack found a job.”

David was confused. “Isn’t that a good thing?”

“It’s in Santa Fe.”

“Shit, Kathy, I’m sorry. Do you want to move there?”

“I have to, don’t I? I’m his wife.”

“Doesn’t he realize that everything you’ve ever had is here in New York?”

“Guess he thought a new start would be nice. At least the paper out there pays better than the _Times_.”

“Maybe it’ll be nice. It’s sunny and warm most of the year! You could keep a garden or something.”

“Sure, but I’ll miss being here. I’ll miss you. It’s more expensive to call from Santa Fe than across town.”

“It’s okay, I can find someone else to talk to at lunch. Probably.”

“Am I that replaceable to you?”

“Kathy! I didn’t mean it like that. I’m trying to make the best of the inevitable.”

“Maybe I’ll find a job I actually like.”

“There you go! No more secretary-ing for gross bosses.”

“Yeah! Look, Dave, I gotta go. Jack said we’re leaving in two days.”

“Good luck, and safe travels to the both of you!”

“Thanks!”

With that, David hung up the phone. Fuck. He didn’t expect this. Now he’d have to actually socialize at work for once thanks to this Jack. He’d never even met the guy!

The best he could do was go to sleep so he wouldn’t be too worn out at work the next day. David fell into a fitful slumber, hoping for some help.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> surprise!! here's chapter 3 for y'all!  
> I have school this week, plus two more lacrosse games, so I probably won't update until next weekend, but we'll see what happens.  
> if you want, tell me your predictions for the next chapter!  
> also! hit up my tumblr! it's @postitnote8 :)


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jack returns to the train station and makes a discovery.

            Jack was more than a little surprised to find himself in a familiar train station. He wasn’t quite sure what to make of it, seeing as he hadn’t been there in well over 25 years. How could he forget that dream from so long ago? Had it been a dream? God, he hoped Pretty Boy, whoever he was, was there tonight. He searched the benches, looking for those familiar eyes.

            Aha! One grown man, hiding his face with a newspaper. Jack counted the years… this man seemed to be about the right age to have once been his Pretty Boy. Not his. Someone else’s. Probably. Everyone was married by this age, right? All of his friends were married.

            Finally, Jack dredged up the confidence to approach the man. “Fancy seeing you here,” he said, trying to get the man to just _look up_ for once.

            The man didn’t look up from his newspaper. “What’s your problem?”

            Jack was shocked. He didn’t remember Pretty Boy being _this_ disillusioned with life. “Don’t you remember me?” he prodded.

            “I don’t think--” the man began as he raised his eyes to Jack’s. He paused. “You.”

            Jack couldn’t begin to comprehend the mixture of emotions present in that word, so he decided to present his casual, suave self. “Surprise, surprise. Thought you’d seen the last of me?”

            The man shrugged. “It’s been a while. Sit.” He gestured towards the space beside him and moved his newspaper. Jack sat next to him. Not too close, of course. The man glanced over at his newspaper for a moment. “You hear they got a guy up on the moon last week?”

            This was an odd subject change. Jack hid his surprise. “Incredible, isn’t it? Feels like the whole world’s blowing right past you.”

            “It’s almost going too fast for me to handle,” the man replied, trying to sound as casual as Jack but obviously failing.

            Jack caught on. “Like you could blink and miss something?”

            “Exactly!” The man froze for a moment in thought. “But, at the same time, it’s not going fast enough.”

            “It’s a fine speed for me,” Jack defended.

            Clearly anguished, the man pressed on. “You don’t _understand_. I’m--” Here he stopped for a second, trying to figure out what to say. “I can’t have--”

            Jack waited for the man to continue with an inquiring look.

            “Never mind,” the man finished, finally making up his mind.

            Jack needed answers. How could he respond to that? He didn’t have it easy either. Moving Kathy to Santa Fe with him, leaving the kids… His life was so fucked up, he didn’t care what Pretty Boy (Man? He wasn’t sure.) had to deal with. “What is it? What makes _you_ so different, huh?” he prodded.

            This, evidently, was the other man’s last straw. “Special, my _ass_. I’m constantly stuck in the _same shit_. I walk the _same_ ten blocks to work, sit in that _same_ cubicle for _hours_ , then go back to the _same_ old apartment. My only break is with the _same_ person _every day_ , and now she’s moving to Santa Fe because of her fucking husband’s job! It’s the same _every day_. Alone. _I want a way out!_ I was an artist once. People _cared_ about me. And now-- Now I don’t have anyone. I _can’t_ have anyone. I’m _nobody._ I have _nobody_!”

            Holy shit. That woman sounded familiar. Jack didn’t have time to focus on that, though. He had to win this argument. “Okay, _smartass._ Sure, I may have the whole nuclear family thing going for me, but _that_ doesn’t mean I don’t deal with bad shit, too! I don’t have a steady _job_ , for fuck’s sake! _I’m_ supposed to be the provider, but I’ve got nothing left to give!”

            He was relieved to finally get that all out. Crumpling into himself so the man couldn’t see his tears, he almost missed the next thing he said.

            Quiet as a mouse, the man spoke. “At least you _have_ a family.”

            Jack froze. He felt _awful_. Hadn’t he had that naïve dream that night long ago when they had first met, too? The one where he had wished for a future with that Pretty Boy, who was obviously lost to time. He didn’t miss when the other man moving away from him on the bench, and it saddened him further. Why did he do that? He hadn’t mean to unleash his pain on his poor… friend? The term didn’t feel quite right as he thought it, seeing as they’d only met twice. But how wonderful that first meeting was! He wished for a return of that ignorant bliss. God, to love another man! The thought had barely crossed his mind before he tried to shut it down. No. He was married to Kathy, had two great kids, and didn’t need someone else. Or did he?

            He looked back on this conversation to distract himself. Hadn’t the man mentioned having one friend, a woman, with whom he spent his breaks? Then he had said something about her husband… what was it… He got a job in Santa Fe!

            Jack had just gotten hired for a job in Santa Fe. He and Kathy were planning to move halfway across the country for it, and Kathy _had_ occasionally mentioned a friend at work. “Breaks up the monotony of being Hearst’s secretary,” she had told him.

Now, what else was there? This man was around Jack’s age, and Kathy had always talked about inviting him over for dinner. Jack had agreed heartily, wanting a friend. Ever since he got fired from the paper, his work buddies had stopped coming to visit as frequently, until they finally stopped coming at all. The man’s name was… It started with a D, Jack knew that. Something fairly typical, sounded like an old story. There was a giant involved. David and Goliath! His name was David, but Kathy called him Dave. He worked a desk job, and, the day Jack told her they had to move to Santa Fe, she had taken him to Jack’s favorite pizza place near the office.

God, this probably was Dave sitting next to him! He was just about to introduce himself when two trains whistled distinctly. He looked up. The man— _Dave_ —was looking in the opposite direction. Jack started to feel a tug towards his side. “Good luck,” he muttered. “ _You’ll_ need it.”

Jack let himself be drawn to his separate train. He looked back over at Dave. They made eye contact for a moment. Dave gave him a questioning look, then boarded his train. Jack turned and stepped into his.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello again! sorry about the wait!  
> I should be able to write another chapter this weekend, and I hope you enjoy this one!


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's 2017, and Dave has some unexpected visitors.

            Dave did not feel well. Typically, his nurse could help him out of bed and to his walker so he could visit his also-barely-alive neighbors, but today was truly off the charts. He gasped for breath and punched the call button as hard as he could with his arthritic fingers.

            For some reason, it was _Sarah_ who came barreling in, not the nurse. _Teenage_ Sarah. That was around the last time he’d seen her before _fucking_ Tom had taken her away to California.

            “Sarah! It’s so good to see you!” he croaked, his voice rusty with age.

            “David, you know my name’s not Sarah,” she responded. “I’m your nurse, Kristin.”

            “It’s been so long,” he continued, ignoring her odd behavior. This _had_ to be Sarah. “I’m so glad you’re finally visiting.”

            Unbeknownst to Dave, the nurse (for it wasn’t Sarah, she was long gone) had pressed the call button on her pager. “ _Code black_ ,” she frantically whispered to her colleagues. “I need backup! Someone call his family!”

            Dave was confused. Why wasn’t Sarah answering him? She never ignored him like this.

            Kristin was shocked when she received the response. His one contact had died last week, and her husband was in a room across the facility. Not only that, the husband was also code black as of today. What an odd coincidence.

            “Sarah! _Sarah!_ ” Dave called out, trying to reach for her from his bed. Being connected to all sorts of machines and cables didn’t help with this at all. Something started beeping as he struggled. Sarah reached out and restrained Dave, his ancient joints screaming in pain at the movement.

            “Stop it, David. You need to calm down. This stress isn’t helping you. Sarah isn’t here,” she tried to reassure him.

            Dave panicked. “Well, if you’re _not_ Sarah, why do you look like her?”

            Kristin blanched and grabbed her pager. “He’s _far_ gone,” she dictated, glancing back at Dave for a moment. “We need the you-know-what stuff. Make sure the rabbi gets here in time.”

            Suddenly, another person in scrubs burst into the room. Dave was even more shell-shocked. “Les?”

            “For Christ’s sake--” the male nurse Dave had labeled as “Les” exclaimed.

            “Shh! Let him be! Code black, remember?” Kristin interrupted. “Just give him this. He doesn’t have much time left.”

            “I’ve missed you! Les, I thought you got yourself _killed_ in Georgia!”

            “How long ’til the rabbi gets here?” Kristin whispered to “Les.”

            “Hell if I know. Last I heard, he was stuck in traffic.”

            “He’ll be _gone_ in the next hour. We can’t afford to deal with New York traffic!”

            “Les! You ever settle down to have kids?” Dave interjected, laughing. “’Cause I sure as hell didn’t. Can you imagine, me with a _woman_? Ha!”

            “Uh… Maybe… No?” “Les” responded.

            “God, I wish I saw what I had when I was seventeen. That was one helluva guy.”

            The nurse was confused. This patient, _David_ , had never mentioned anything about his past before. Only that he had no family left, and he wanted to visit his friend Katherine, who had died the past week, occasionally. Had this man’s family left him because he was _gay_? The thought was absurd to him, though the man had grown up sixty years before him.

            “Sarah! Come, hold my hand. These years have been long without you.”

            Kristin looked around for help.

            “Oh, just do it. He’s about to die anyway,” the other nurse casually responded.

            Kristin painted some sort of smile onto her face, took Dave’s hand, and sat in the chair next to his bed. She didn’t really know what to do besides that.

            After a long, awkward silence where Dave stroked Sarah’s hand and she tried not to shy away, the other nurse piped up. “How about I call up Jake? He knows what to do. Doesn’t look like this one’s gonna last too much longer, anyway.”

            “What was that, Les?” Dave asked, too far gone to hear clearly.

            The nurse ignored him and grabbed his pager. “Hey, Jake. Code black. You know the room.”

            A voice crackled out of the pager. “I’ll be there in a sec. This one’s just gone.”

            “Sarah? What’s going on?” Dave had opened his eyes in the confusion.

            “Shh, it’ll be alright. Why don’t you close your eyes for a bit, honey?” Kristin gently murmured. The last thing the nurses needed at that moment was for Dave to freak out about his impending passing.

            “Okay,” he complied, shutting his eyes. The heart monitor started to beep slower and slower.

            Jake quietly entered the room and sat in the one remaining empty chair. “How long?” he whispered.

            “Probably around 20 minutes or so,” the nurse replied. “He was hallucinating.”

            Jake shook his head in sympathy. “Oh, God, those are the worst. What was it about?”

            “Some chick named Sarah. Then he went off on some rant about growing up gay.”

            “Yikes. Guy must've had a hard life.”

            The heart monitor picked up speed. Dave blinked his eyes open for a moment and looked around, his face an ashen color. “Whoa, this is weird. How’d I end up out of the apartment? I’ve got school tomorrow! What am I going to do?” he exclaimed, obviously lost in the past.

            His head fell back on the pillows and everything went black.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello!!  
> as you may have noticed, I've finally figured out how many chapters there are going to be in this fic! it's going to be weird to see it end.  
> at the same time, hope you enjoyed this and you don't hate me too much. remember, there's still another chapter left.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jack and Davey reconcile.

            Jack wasn’t surprised at his surroundings this time. He knew exactly where he was, so he slowly craned his neck to look for his bench in the train station. Spotting it, he dragged his ancient body across the platform to its relief. Once he reached the bench, Jack sat down as gracefully as he could with his stiff joints.

            He looked around again. There was a newspaper left on the bench beside him. Upon closer inspection, it was the newspaper that the other man—Jack had forgotten his name—had been reading the last time they had met. God, it had been a long time. He opened up the newspaper and held it close to his face so he could read the faded print.

            Jack heard the sound of a walker approaching. He internally refused to put down his newspaper, as the events of 1969 were too damn interesting for interruption. The clicking of the walker got louder, so Jack felt obligated to respond. “You there. Stop it. I’m trying to read,” he snapped, shooing away the approacher while still keeping a firm grasp on the paper.

            The man didn’t seem to be giving up so easily. “May I sit?” he pressed, ignoring Jack’s temper.

            “Seat’s taken,” Jack answered, still engrossed in his article about the moon landing.

            “Sure it is,” the man replied sarcastically.

            Jack kept reading.

            “I’d appreciated it if you could move over. This won’t hold me up forever,” the man continued, probably gesturing at the unseen walker.

            Jack finally finished his article and looked up. In the wrinkles and gray hair, he saw a pair of deep hazel eyes he recognized. “You.”

            “Age has treated you well,” the weathered man countered.

            Jack sighed. “I’m sorry. Is that what you wanted to hear?”

            The man laughed. “It’s been fifty years!”

            “Yeah, it’s overdue,” Jack began. “I get it. But can’t we put the past behind us?”

            They paused for a moment, both unsure of what to do.

            Jack pushed himself over on the bench with his arthritic hands and gestured at the spot next to him. “Please, sit.”

            The man maneuvered around his walker and carefully lowered himself into a sitting position beside Jack. Neither man was sure of what to do, so they simply sat there for a moment.

            Jack felt strange and sort of tingly. He looked at the man beside him, and saw his features slowly morph back into those of his seventeen-year-old self. Shocked, he looked down at his hands, which no longer held any sign of wrinkles. The other man had clearly been staring in wonder at the change as well.

            Jack tried to make it less awkward. “Ya know, I never caught your name,” he said as casually as he could.

            The other… well… boy was caught a little off guard. “David—Davey Jacobs.”

            Jack smiled. “I’m Jack. Jack Kelly. Nice to see you again.”

            Davey shied away from Jack for a moment, then tentatively offered him his hand. Jack was overjoyed. _He likes me too!_ he thought, taking Davey’s hand.

            Meanwhile, Davey felt like exploding with happiness. He didn’t think that would work. A huge, cheesy grin appeared on his face at the sheer pleasure of finally getting what he wanted.

            The two sat together for a while, just holding hands and enjoying each other’s company.

            Eventually, a train whistled. Jack felt his now-young legs pull him towards the train, but he stopped and stood with Davey next to the bench. Davey leaned onto Jack’s shoulder and hummed contemplatively for a moment.

            “Maybe we can start over when we reach our destination,” he thought aloud.

            Jack shook his head. “What’s the point in starting over? Let’s keep going.”

            They went to board the train together, gentle smiles gracing both of their faces.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wow i'm cruel but it's over!!  
> just a reminder that my tumblr is @postitnote8 and you should hmu!!  
> i'm probably extending the play into a full one-act at some point, so i may end up writing a different version of this based on that!  
> hope you enjoyed this fic!


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